


Where the Warmth Never Grows Dim

by mxlfoydraco



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Body Positivity, Chubby Neville Longbottom, Cross-Generation Relationship, Getting Together, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Mutual Pining, Professor Neville Longbottom, Self Confidence Issues, Teaching Assistant Teddy Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 10:29:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13657137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxlfoydraco/pseuds/mxlfoydraco
Summary: “Thanks,” Teddy says softly, unaware of Neville’s inner turmoil. “You’re the best.”Neville wishes he could be, at least for the sake of his responsibilities.





	Where the Warmth Never Grows Dim

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the rarepair show, I'll be your host of the day. 
> 
> In case anyone cares, Teddy is 24 and Neville is 41 in this story. Get that silver fox, Edward. 
> 
> Thank you [Mugen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mugen) and [Thealmostrhetoricalquestion](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thealmostrhetoricalquestion) for the beta work and your constant support. My love for you both is infinite.
> 
> The title is from a poem called "A Simile Like Love, A Metaphor Is Love" by Allen Steble.

There are some basic facts about himself that Neville had to make his peace with. He’s over forty years old, his hair is now on the graying side of blonde, he has as many botanical friends as human ones, and he used to be embarrassed of himself. The key word being  _ used to _ .

Growing up, the world kept telling him that the clumsy and nervous fat boy couldn’t be the hero of the story. He couldn’t grow up to be the guy who saved the day. He believed that for a long time; subconsciously, he decided that his role would always be behind the scenes, a minor character in someone else's story. Always careful not to inconvenience the main characters because he would never be able to catch up with them. 

That is, until he realized that people who loved him, people who actually mattered, didn’t agree with that. They didn’t think that Neville was good for nothing. It was evident in the way Ginny defended him so fiercely, in the way Harry furiously told him that he was worth twelve of Malfoy, the way Ron charged fist-first into a fight when Malfoy said otherwise, the sincerity in Luna’s voice when she told him just how much she admired  _ his _ resilience.

Little by little, Neville started to believe in himself too. The nerves still got to him sometimes, he was still bumbling and forgetful, perhaps he still didn’t look the way a hero was expected to, but there was an undiscovered strength within him still. Kindness, loyalty, bravery despite the ever present fear. 

The urge to fight back grew with him, slowly and surely, he started pushing himself to stand up even when no one else would. It didn’t matter if his opponent thought he was an easy defeat. It didn’t matter if they thought that a banged up, chubby bloke with half his eyebrow burned couldn’t outmatch them, because he could. He might not be muscular or agile, he might not look intimidating, but he had made sure he made up for it ten times over by countless hours of defense and spell practice. What they saw as his weakness, he made his strength.

That’s how he found himself standing in front of an army of Death Eaters, telling them and anyone who could hear that he wouldn’t be the spineless pushover they wanted him to be. He wouldn’t be their laughing material. He would be the one who sparked the fire that would burn them all down.

Admittedly, the rest of his self-confidence journey was and remains much less climatic. There are times when he has to remind himself that not being asked to do semi naked photo-shoots doesn’t mean that he’s unattractive. There are times when intrusive reporters take unflattering photos of him, dissecting all his so called flaws for everyone to see. He has to tell himself, again and again, that their opinions don’t matter. They just want a spectacle, a weakness to exploit. He won’t give them that satisfaction. He  _ won’t _ . 

It took him years to start appreciating his body; to look in the mirror and feel not only content, but also appealing. He refuses to let anyone take that away from him. He likes the softness and weight of his body, the slight curve of his stomach, his thick thighs and round arse that look fantastic in his favorite jeans. 

He doesn’t need random magazines to share his opinions, he just wants them to stop making him doubt himself. He isn’t letting go, he isn’t depressed or  _ scarred from the war,  _ he isn’t unhealthy. He’s working in his dream job, his students both love and respect him, he has wonderful friends who are always there for him. He’s happy. 

Which of course doesn’t explain why he was thrown so off balance when he realized that Teddy’s… well, interested in him. 

It’s as if he wasn’t the one who spent years dismantling his self-conception and rebuilding it into a healthier one. Yes, he still felt self-conscious sometimes. He knows that realistically, that’s impossible to stop definitely; but whatever is going on with Teddy is doing more than that. The warm, fluttery feeling in his chest whenever Teddy catches his not-so-secretive glances is making Neville question everything, including himself. 

It wasn’t like this with Hannah, his feelings for her didn’t hook their claws into his soul and drag out his long forgotten insecurities. 

It’s Teddy. It must be. 

Neville never got to teach him when Teddy was young. He was traveling all around the world when Teddy was in Hogwarts, off to dangerous and uncharted forests full of plants he had dreamed of studying for years. 

When he had settled into his position, Teddy had already graduated and started his internship with the newly retired Professor Sprout. Neville’s only impression of Teddy had been a rowdy toddler he had seen a handful of times, and a diligent trainee he corresponded with years later. Things are much different now that Teddy’s working as a teaching assistant alongside him. 

Teddy’s vibrant, for the lack of a better word. He’s full of enthusiasm and joy, so curious and eager to learn. He animatedly gestures with his hands when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about, his hair flashing with colours as he gets worked up. He’s empathetic and supportive to their students; he can effectively discipline them when things get out of hand, yet most of the time he jokes around with them, subtly coaxing them into learning. The classes he assists are always lighter, more spirited and cheerful. Everyone loves Teddy, even when his snarky tongue gets the better of him.

Neville knows that Teddy’s incredible; that he’s attractive, bright and charming. What he doesn’t understand is how someone like Teddy is so…  _ smitten _ with him.

There’s nothing wrong with Neville per se, but to him, Teddy just outshines him. Neville can’t figure out what is it about an old and ordinary professor in a patched sweater that makes Teddy blush so prettily when Neville tells him he’s doing a good job. It knocks the breath right out of Neville’s chest when that happens, followed by a flash of red sparking through Teddy’s soft-looking curls. 

Teddy doesn’t let him wonder too much.

 

—

 

“I wish I was as organized as you,” he says, gesturing at his messy desk with a grimace. 

Neville smiles at him fondly. Teddy’s like a walking disaster, any place he so much as touches ends up looking like a hurricane has passed through it. 

“I would never be able to find what I’m looking for if I didn’t keep my desk tidy,” he muses. “Yours is an orderly chaos, I think. You always manage to remember where you’ve scattered things.”

“I guess you’re right,” Teddy says, grinning behind a stack of badly folded parchments he was searching for a moment earlier. His fingernails inadvertently shift into a light pink, Neville ducks his head to hide the inexplicably besotted look on his face. 

 

—

 

“I don’t know how you do it,” Teddy says, stifling a yawn as he scratches his hair, now a dulled brown. “You understand my mind better than I do. I’d been trying to understand where I’d gone wrong for an hour.”

Teddy’s similar to Neville in his academic journey. He loves being hands on, learning through experience and people. Research is fun when it’s for personal interest, not so much when you have an upcoming thesis deadline and thousands of words more to write

“It’s just practice,” Neville says easily, barely suppressing the urge to run his hand through the curls Teddy just mussed up. “Go get some sleep, we can work on this later.”

Teddy smiles gratefully at him, leaving Neville warm and confused all over again. 

This is his favorite  _ and _ deceased professor’s son, who’s seventeen years younger than Neville at that. He shouldn’t feel this way, but he still does.

“Thanks,” Teddy says softly, unaware of Neville’s inner turmoil. “You’re the best.”

Neville wishes he could be, at least for the sake of his responsibilities.

 

—

 

Neville’s drawn the short stick of chaperoning for the end of the term party for the seventh years. He doesn’t really mind watching over them as they awkwardly flirt and dance. He may even get to dance himself, if he can coax Professor Mcgonagall for a song or two. 

Most of his kids are well-meaning, even when they exasperate him into mentally headbutting his desk with their teenage rebellion and angst. He knows they won't tire him too much. It will be a fun night for him too even.

He’s fixing the collar of his dress robes when an enthusiastic knock comes from his door

“Come in,” he calls across, tugging at his undershirt to make it look more casual. 

Currently, he looks like he's going to a bloody Ministry dinner. Which he has, in this exact robes as well. Merlin, he really needs to get a new set of formal robes. This one feels at the wrong side of tight, but the hassle of finding another formal plus-size robe that doesn’t look atrocious just isn’t worth it. He has no problem with wearing different colours, frills or lace, but not like  _ that _ for Godric’s sake. 

Teddy comes bumbling in before Neville can scrawl a reminder note to owl Lavender about her new line. Teddy freezes in his steps and stops mid-greeting as soon as he bursts through the door. He gives a lingering once over to Neville, the appreciation apparent in his eyes. 

Neville does  _ not _ blush, he’s just overheated because of his stuffy robes. 

He needs to physically push down the urge to self-consciously tug at his robes to stretch them, the weight of Teddy’s stare almost making him squirm nervously

“Hey,” he says, his voice comes out strangely choked. His attempts to clear it come out even more awkward.

That seems to snap Teddy out of his reverie and thankfully dampens Neville’s nerves. Teddy’s gaze is flattering, undeniably so, but it also makes Neville want to start analyzing every single flaw he can find with himself before Teddy can. That’s not a road he wants to go down, not after years of successfully resisting it.

“Hot date?” Teddy asks. 

The grin on his face is obviously fake, he sounds more defeated than teasing. Neville feels so impossibly fond of him, it’s ridiculous. 

“Chaperoning the seventh year farewell party, remember?” 

He’s unable to keep the smile off his face when Teddy perks up at that. He feels so exposed, as if a single calculating look could reveal all the feelings he desperately tries to keep shut inside. Thankfully, Teddy’s too busy playfully whistling at him to do that, his glee clearly genuine now.

“Giving them a parting gift, are you?”

Neville’s pretty sure he  _ is _ blushing this time.

“Did you come here just to mock me or…?” Neville asks, instead of conveniently combusting right then and there. 

“Oh.” Teddy blanks for a second, he looks so adorably confused that Neville’s sorry he composes himself so quickly. “Oh, yes. I wanted to ask if you’d like to get some tea and biscuits from the kitchens and read over the lecture notes, but we can just do that in the morning.”

Neville’s so tempted to let his students fare for themselves, just to spend a few quiet hours with Teddy, but he doesn’t. He’s a strong and responsible teacher who’s not going to let his charges get foolishly drunk and make regretful mistakes. 

Which is exactly why he makes himself tell Teddy that they can have a raincheck on the biscuits. He doesn’t think he’s ever been strong enough to be able to deny himself the opportunity of a domestic absolutely-not-a-date with Teddy. 

 

—

 

The tea and biscuits become an almost nightly ritual for them

Sometimes they grade papers together, sometimes they work on Teddy’s thesis, and sometimes they do nothing more than softly converse over warm mint tea and treacle tarts. 

The nights Neville spends with Teddy are simultaneously the best and worst part of his week. On one hand, the quiet intimacy they’re building together is both exciting and heart-warming. Neville feels as if he might burst with the strength of his own feelings sometimes. It’s impossible not to fall for Teddy, not when he’s letting Neville see the parts of him he usually hides behind his carefully convultated appearance. 

On the other hand, it’s a slow torture on his own will and desires. Neville’s hands itch with the urge to tuck a stray curl behind Teddy’s ear, to slowly card his fingers through his hair, whatever style and colour it is that day. It takes so much of Neville’s willpower to not lean forward and kiss Teddy when his lips curve into a lopsided grin. 

Teddy’s no help either. Neville doesn’t know if Teddy can actually see through him, but oftentimes it feels like he can. Teddy doesn’t let him get lost in his own doubts, he leaves no room for Neville to reinterpret his attention as confusion. Neville can’t speculate about what Teddy might be seeing in him anymore because Teddy voices everything he likes about Neville with unwavering honesty. Even when it flusters Neville, even when it surprises him into accidentally knocking over things or choking on empty air. Teddy thinks Neville’s  _ cute _ when those happen, not annoying.

The only reason Neville was able to hold back for so long is because he can’t stop thinking about Remus and Harry. What they would do or say, if they would be disappointed or angry. Possible scenarios rush through his mind, some catastrophic and some hopeful. He still can’t make himself take that one step that might just change everything. He’s right there on the edge, staring down an abyss and wondering if he can ever make it there.

 

—

 

The moment he had been both dreading and longing for comes on a day just like any other. 

There’s nothing special about it. He’s grading papers in the kitchen with Teddy, laughing about a student spelling Bubotuber as  _ Boobtuber _ , when Teddy reaches out to brush a crumb from the corner of his mouth. 

Neville remembers watching cheesy movies with Dean, the ones where the time slows down and the background fades into a warm glow as the main character kisses their love interest for the first time. Their small moment somehow feels exactly like that. 

They stare at each other silently, perhaps daring themselves to take a move, any move. Neville can’t, he’s paralyzed with his doubts and concerns, still trying to understand countless why’s and how’s. 

Teddy shouldn’t be looking at him with eyes that are alight with want and need, Neville’s heart shouldn’t be trying to beat itself out of his chest, Teddy shouldn’t look so shy and bashful when he’s usually anything but, Neville shouldn’t find him impossible to resist. 

Yet, it all happens anyway. 

“Can I...?” Teddy asks, so softly that it’s almost inaudible. 

Neville knows that he can say no, give Teddy an out. Teddy can save face by acting like he was asking about something else, even though they both know what exactly he’s asking for. 

Neville can’t. He can’t not kiss, love, or yearn for Teddy. 

Teddy’s like a Tentacula that’s wrapping himself all around Neville’s heart and mind, just one drop of his essence renders Neville incapable of any defense. He welcomes it, just like a flower would the first rays of morning sunrise. It might be a venom, it might be an antidote, it might even be a narcotic or a psychedelic. It doesn’t matter.

He nods, slowly and perhaps still unsurely, he takes that last and first step. 

Harry has always advocated for fighting for love, Remus never gave up on love despite all his losses. Why would they oppose it when it’s Neville? Neville deserves it just as much as them, doesn’t he? Weren’t they the ones who always told him that? Teddy’s almost twenty five, why would Neville be an awful person, when he feels nothing but affection and respect toward him? 

The smile that blooms on Teddy’s face makes every single challenge they will yet to face worth bearing. Neither the obstacles nor the struggles can matter when such a simple gesture from Neville can make Teddy’s eyes shine so brightly. 

Teddy leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss on Neville’s lips. Neville lets his mind go blank, letting go of every single weight he’s shackled himself with. He breathes in the earthy, flowery scent of Teddy and tastes their mint tea on his tongue. He can’t remember anything feeling this  _ right _ .

He can be the hero of his own story, the hero who saves the day  _ and _ gets the person they love, just the way he is.

**Author's Note:**

> Raise a hand if you would like me to sing "Kiss the Guy" at Neville as his personal Sebastian. We all know he needs it.
> 
> Thank you for reading my story and supporting this fest! Kudos and comments are always welcome and appreciated, but I'm not open to unsolicited concrit. Feel free to find me at [Tumblr](https://mxlfoydraco.tumblr.com) and check out the other works in the collection!


End file.
